


Face Towards the Music

by misura



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Community: slashfest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-21
Updated: 2008-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-23 14:05:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Cuddy raised one eyebrow. "You need an assistant for playing the piano?"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Face Towards the Music

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: _House MD, House/Wilson, House is goaded into performing at some hospital charity thing (playing piano) and drags Wilson down with him._

House's reaction was about as Cuddy'd expected.

"This," House told her, "is completely, utterly imposible. I'm a cripple, for crying out loud!"

Cuddy picked up a few papers and started reading them - or putting on a pretense of reading them, anyway. "I don't see why that should matter." It didn't, generally. House immensely disliked receiving any kind of special treatment because of his leg, and this one peculiar preference of his, Cuddy was more than happy to indulge - if only because he'd have driven her mad within a week if she'd felt compelled to handle him with kid gloves for being 'mobility challenged'.

"It matters because charity is generally done _for_ people who've got less, not _by_ them."

"Are you saying you want people to feel sorry for you?" Cuddy asked, eyes still on the papers.

House ignored the question, as she'd known he would. "No clinic-duty for two months."

Cuddy allowed herself a brief smile, which vanished the moment she faced House. The fact that he was negotiating meant that she'd won and he was going to do it. "A week." As long as she didn't gloat too openly.

"Three weeks."

Cuddy shook her head. "Two." She might have let him off the hook altogether if he'd been bad at it, but he actually wasn't. He helped people, even when he might not go about it in a way that won him any extra points for being charming or nice about it. (Of course, if he'd been bad at his job, she'd never have hired him in the first place.)

House made a face. "Two," he agreed somewhat unexpectedly, "and I get to pick an assistant."

Cuddy raised one eyebrow. "You need an assistant for playing the piano?" If he thought she'd balk at his condition, he'd thought wrong. She knew House well enough to know that _he_ knew her well enough to realize she wouldn't mind spending an evening for charity - and if he did insist on dragging her along, she'd make him pay for every minute of it. She didn't think he'd be that foolish though.

House grinned at her. "I just want someone to stand around and look pretty," he said.

"Fine," Cuddy said. She considered giving Wilson a friendly warning and discarded the notion almost immediately. Presumably, Wilson'd known what he'd gotten himself into when he'd started sleeping with House - and if he didn't, Cuddy still felt he deserved everything that was coming to him.

 

Knowing his intended victim as well as he did, House decided on a subtle, roundabout tactic that might meet with considerable resistance initially, yet was bound to have him emerge victorious in the end.

"Absolutely not," said Wilson, in that tone of voice he always used when he thought he was firmly putting his foot down about something. House knew better, of course.

"Why not?" he asked, putting a plaintive note in his voice that he knew would annoy Wilson. "It's for charity. You should feel happy I'm offering you an opportunity to show everyone what a good, upstanding citizen you are."

"No." Wilson's expression might be one of determination, but House could practically _hear_ his resolve cracking. When push came to shove, House knew himself to be like an irresistable force - and Wilson was a far cry from an immovable object. In fact, if anything, Wilson was rather too easily moved.

"It'll be fun," House coaxed. "Well, it _might_ be fun," he amended for honesty's sake. With Wilson around to embarrass and poke fun at, House thought the evening might be bearable ... barely.

Wilson snorted. "How did Cuddy talk you into this anyway?"

"She caught me in a moment of weakness." As if. "Come on, Jimmy, be nice."

" _You_ have moments of weakness?" Wilson's tone was increduous.

"It happens." House shrugged. "Usually only after great sex." And the thought of Cuddy and sex was enough to make his head hurt. House didn't doubt it'd be great sex, but he also suspected he'd wake up the next morning with scratches on his back (which, okay, was rather more kinky than waking up to find Wilson had made him breakfast) and a headache the size of Canada, because the only way he could ever see himself being propositioned by Cuddy was when they were both too drunk to have any common sense left.

"Oh, really?" Wilson had many weaknesses - his natural urge to be nice all the time was only the one House exploited most often. His vanity was another one.

"You get to wear a really cool costume."

Wilson shuddered, probably getting the same mental image House had gotten when he'd mentioned the costume. He had a point, actually.

House sighed. "Why can't you just say 'yes'?" Wilson was good at saying 'yes' - altough not quite as good as House was at saying 'no'.

"Because I'm saying 'no'."

"What's a magician without a tall, lanky assistant with long legs and a pretty face?"

"Flattery isn't going to get you anywhere," Wilson said. "Why'd you sign up to be a magician anyway? Why not pick something simple like ... like playing the piano or something. You're good at that."

"If I played the piano, you'd be my assistant?" House asked quickly. "And for the record, I'm an excellent magician. I can pull rabbits out of hats like nobody's business." In his dreams, maybe - and his dreams generally didn't involve fluffy animals. Still, no need to tell Wilson that.

"If you play the piano instead of doing some magic act, I'll ... think about it," Wilson said cautiously. "Although I really don't see what you'd need an assistant for."

House shrugged. "It just appeals to my perverted nature to show you to a roomful of people and then let them all know they can't have you because you're mine." Telling Cuddy had been a bit of a disappointment; she'd only looked up from her papers and said she'd known already.

Wilson gave him a level look. Presumably, it was meant to shame him into doing or saying something he normally wouldn't do or say. House couldn't imagine what it might be.

"What?" he asked, spreading his hands in a gesture of innocence. "At least I'm honest about it. Unlike some people I could name, I've got nothing to be ashamed of."

"Are you saying I do?" Wilson asked, definitely on the defense now. Wilson was ... touchy about his being stuck somewhere between the closet and the world outside of it. House lovingly allowed him to figure things out on his own, without any help or assistance.

"Don't worry, I love you in spite of all your weaknesses and insecurities," he replied. He did, too, that was the beauty of it and, to some degree, the foundation upon which their relationship was built. House's utter acceptance of Wilson and all his flaws, and Wilson's natural acceptance of House's obvious superiority in all manners that counted.

"Fine, I'll do it," snapped Wilson.


End file.
